


Mr. Wayne

by CKBookish



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bad Parent Jack Drake, Bad Parent Janet Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruises, Child Neglect, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I think?, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim is going to be loved okay?, or he is trying to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKBookish/pseuds/CKBookish
Summary: Tim is new to this.  He's only been Robin for a little over six months. It was going well.  But now he was going to be fired.  Batman wouldn't want a partner who got caught at school with a black eye.  Would he?Batman Bingo 2020: Bruises
Relationships: Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590904
Comments: 63
Kudos: 823





	Mr. Wayne

**Author's Note:**

> Wowza, Okay I'm back to bingo for the moment. Hopefully I've done Tim okay, He may or may not terrify me. I just want to do him justice okay?
> 
> Anyway as always, Comments and Kudos are my fire! Enjoy.

It’s just a sign of my body working to right itself

The painted color of impact

Blood working it’s way out

Its fine

Rainbows are a promise, that the water won’t continue to rise

A bruise 

The promise I can make it through to see another night.

You however do not like rainbows

You don’t trust that the water won’t be followed by fire

You tell me it’s not fine at all.

And maybe if you say it often enough

I might listen.

* * *

Tim sat with his legs dangling uncomfortably on the old wooden chair. He let his foot swing slightly,  _ just  _ enough for the toe of his shoe to brush against the hard leg of the chair. Tim didn’t want to be here. Well, he supposed no one wanted to be sat outside the vice principal’s office. But right now Tim could think of a million and one better places to be. He had that case Batman had asked him to look into. He had four assignments he could be doing. He could be hanging out with Conner, or Bart. He could be out with Stephanie. He would even rather be in the  _ sewers  _ of Gotham looking for Killer Croc. 

“Drake!” The vice principal called from her office.

Tim sighed and slid off the chair. He wondered if she had managed to get a hold of his parents. He doubted it. They were currently in the jungles of Brazil. Tim hadn’t even heard from one of their assistants in weeks. Tim marched into the room with his eyes fixed determinately on the floor. The leather chair squeaked as he sank into the seat across from Mrs. Greensly. 

“Tim, your teachers are getting more and more concerned. This morning was the fourth time you’ve fallen asleep in class. You haven’t turned in assignments in three of your classes, and now you…” She trailed off with a sigh. “Tim, where did you get the black eye?”

Tim bit his lip. This was so inconvenient. Right now he really wished for his mask. The mask concealed the black eye. But of course he wasn’t Robin here. So he couldn’t hide it. He should have made sure he ordered waterproof make up. But he hadn’t foreseen the need. He had miscalculated. But then how on earth was he to  _ expect  _ a water balloon fight to be that year’s prank. Tim needed to pay more attention to the school rumor mill. There must have been talk of the staged water balloon fight in the cafeteria. Tim could have avoided it. But no, he was hit right in the face with a balloon the size of Texas. 

“I fell the other day. I thought it was embarrassing so I used my mom’s concealer. Okay? It’s not a big deal.” Tim mumbled at his feet. “I’ll get the assignments turned in.”

The silence in the room was so uncomfortable. Tim wanted to move but fidgeting was a tell. He would ensure he didn’t do something so complacent. Batman would be so disappointed. Tim would be doing drills for a week if he knew that he’d slipped up like this. 

“Tim, is someone hurting you?” Mrs. Greensly leaned forward. 

Tim could smell coffee on her breath. Man could he use a cup of coffee. He could deal with all this if he had some caffeine. 

“No.” Not if you didn’t count the thug that landed a lucky blow the other day. “I really fell and just thought it was embarrassing.” He  _ had  _ fallen down when he was hit, and it was embarrassing. He was Robin. He definitely shouldn’t be caught with a black eye. 

“Where are your parents?” She leaned back slightly. 

Tim felt a tension leave his chest. She believed him. When she grilled students who she was suspicious of, she always got closer. Everyone had a tell. Batman was right, It was easy to read people when they didn’t know they had one. 

“They’re on a dig in Brazil.”

“So who is staying with you? We don’t have anyone else listed as a contact for you.” She glanced at her computer. Tim would have to hack the school’s system later and add Conner under a fake name. Conner was getting pretty good at mimicking other people’s voices. 

“Um… Well. I’ve got the staff, but they won’t be at the house right now. Not since it’s school hours.

“Well, who should I call to pick you up?”

Tim opened his mouth and closed it again. “I usually get a taxi home.”

“Well, I can’t put you in a cab. But I don’t want you to go back to class today, not when you clearly are too tired to stay awake, and are soaking wet. So who am I calling?”

Tim felt sick. He hadn’t ever been unable to talk his way out of this. Normally a sweet smile and an excuse was enough. He could call a cab and be  _ fine _ . Why didn’t she understand that? 

“Tim, help me out here. Do you have your staff’s cell phone number? Or an assistant for your parents?”

“I don’t know it…” Tim bit his lip, he couldn’t just create a staff member out of thin air. He needed a computer, he needed to write a program or pay off some actor. 

“A relative, neighbor?”

Tim felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. Batman. He could call Mr. Wayne. But he really couldn’t. Not for this. This was not part of the deal. Batman would not be happy about it. Maybe he could ask Mr. Pennyworth. He was always kind. Tim licked his lips and nodded. “I have a neighbor’s number.”

Mrs. Greensly smiled and pushed the phone towards him. Tim hesitated only a moment before dialing the manor’s number. Mrs. Greensly smiled and held the phone to her ear.

“Hello. This is Mrs. Greensly the vice principal at Gotham Academy. I’m here with Timothy Drake. We haven’t been able to get a hold of his parents to come pick him up, and so he said you were a neighbor? Oh excellent. Would you be able to collect him? No. No. He’s not in any trouble. We had an incident today with some water balloons … well he has a black eye and… yes. No, not from the Balloon, he said he had it before. Well… No. He had concealer on it.” 

Tim listened absently to the conversation. He wasn’t sure what to say to Mr. Pennyworth. He needed a plan. Mr. Pennyworth would not be happy that he hadn’t told him or Batman about the black eye. Tim almost wondered if he could convince him he had gotten it from falling as well. Maybe if he said it was from skateboarding. Yeah that could do it. He would say he was trying out a new trick and landed wrong. 

“Tim?”

His head snapped up. She had hung up already. Man he really did need some coffee. 

“He’s on his way. Do you want to wait in the main office or in here?”

“I’ll wait out there if that’s okay?”

“Of course.”

Tim found his way back to the wooden chair across from reception and waited. He passed time daydreaming about cases, and thinking about hanging out with Stephanie. She was mad at him right now. She was usually mad at him for something. But if he brought her with him to the mall this weekend, she might forgive him. He figured they could spend time at the arcade or the indoor skate-park there. That and ice cream might be enough for her to forgive him. He wasn’t sure what she would be forgiving him for, but he didn’t think it really mattered. Not with Steph. She probably didn’t remember why she was mad at him anyway. 

Tim was lost in his own mind until the door to the office opened. The air was cold and biting as it swept in with the figure who entered. Tim who was still damp from the water balloon shivered slightly and turned to give Mr. Pennyworth a million thank yous, but the words died on his tongue. Batman stood dressed in grey slacks and a black turtleneck. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he took in the bruises on Tim’s face. 

“Tim? Are you okay?” Brucie Wayne was an incredible performance. 

Tim found himself almost believing the concern to be real. His whole face was dedicated to the act. Bruce’s eyes were wide and his mouth was ever so slightly agape. 

“Mr… Mr. Wayne! I’m so… I thought… I’m sorry.” Tim ducked his head. He was definitely going to be doing drills for a week. 

Bruce walked over and pulled Tim’s face up. He frowned down at him, his eyes roamed Tim’s face as if looking for further damage. Tim pulled away from his touch. Bruce’s frown deepened but he let his hand fall.

“That looks nasty, Tim.” Bruce’s voice was low. Tim barely could hear it.

“I’m fine really. I’m sorry they called you. They wouldn’t--”

“We’ll talk in the car.” Bruce turned away, and smoothly approached the receptionist’s desk. “Hello, I’m here for Timothy. Do I need to sign anything?”

Tim watched Brucie smile and flirt with the secretary as he filled out a form for picking up a child. 

The walk to the car was torture. Bruce was stealing glances at Tim every few steps, but he still said nothing. It wasn’t until they past the turn for the Drake estate that Tim spoke.

“Um… Mr. Wayne? Where are we going?”

“The Manor.”

Tim turned in his seat to face him. “Ahh, yeah, but… why?”

“You said you weren’t alone when your parents left for Brazil. The school obviously doesn’t agree.”

“I never said that. I said I was all set. That is completely different than ‘not alone’.” Tim turned back to look out the window again. This wasn’t good. Now Batman was not only mad at him for messing up, but he would be mad if he thought Tim had  _ lied  _ to him as well.

Bruce pulled to a stop and threw the gear into the parked position. His hands gripped the wheel, and he continued to stare out the windshield. “Tim, who lives with you when your parents are gone?”

Tim wanted to throw up. “No one.”

“No one.” Bruce repeated slowly. “What about your eye?”

“What about it?” 

“When did you get it?”

“Oh. Tuesday. With the drug dealers.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“No. I was fine. It’s just a couple of bruises.” Tim felt his voice crack over the words. Bruce finally turned to Tim.

“Tim, I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

“I… What?” Tim wasn’t often surprised by something Batman said, but this… this definitely qualified. 

Bruce sighed. “Alfred will make up a guest room for you while your parents are away. Tim, I need you to tell me when you’re hurt.” Bruce held up his hand to stop Tim from interrupting him. “I don’t care if you think it’s minor. It makes me feel better to know, and it’s safer. What if you don’t tell me about a bruise on your ribs,and then during a fight something happens that would normally be small, but with the injury is devastating? And Black eyes can be serious. What if you have a fracture? Or damaged your eyeball?”

Tim could feel his eyes burning. He blinked several times to keep the tears from falling. 

“I’m not mad. I’m not even upset with you. I would just like you to tell me in future, Okay?”

“Yeah, Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Tim.” Bruce put the car back in drive and pulled back onto the road. 

“Mr. Wayne?” Tim bit his lip as the Wayne estate came into view. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m really okay at my house. My Dad leaves me his card and I’ve got food, and everything.”

Bruce’s eyebrows knit together. “I’m sure you are, but I would rather you stay with us.”

“I… Why?” Tim couldn’t figure it out. He would be in the way. This was most certainly not the deal. He was Robin and Mr. Wayne was Batman. That was it. He wasn’t Dick and he wasn’t Jason. That wasn’t the deal. He was here to make sure that Batman was able to do his job. He was Robin, but Tim wasn’t a -- A Wayne.

“Because you're thirteen, and in the state of New Jersey that is too young to be alone. Even if you are perfectly capable of using your father’s money.” Bruce’s words were slow, as if he was mulling over each syllable before he said it. 

“It’s illegal to fight crime as a bat.”

“Yes.” Bruce agreed but didn’t turn around. 

“I’m okay, by myself.” Tim could feel blood rising to his face. He just wanted to go home. He was going to be in the way. Why couldn’t Bruce understand that? This wasn’t what he signed up for. He was only Robin to Bruce’s Batman. 

“I’m sure you are.” Bruce was still pulling up the Wayne Manor drive.

“I want to go home.” Tim didn’t mean to raise his voice. But it still came out as a shout.

“Tim. No.” Bruce pulled to a stop next to the manor’s front door. 

Tim leapt from the car. “No? NO?” He slammed the door and spun to face Batman. Bruce’s eyes were wide and his face red, as he climbed out of the diver’s side. His eyes were trained on Tim in disbelief.

“You, maybe my boss, but..but.. You can’t tell me where I can or can’t live. You don’t-- You can’t!”

“Tim--”

“No. I’m going home.” Tim spun on his heel and began the long walk back to his house.

“Timothy Jackson Drake.” Bruce’s voice was low and very close to his Batman growl. “You are going to stay here. You will change into dry clothes. Alfred is going to make you dinner and you are going to do your late assignments, and sleep.”

“You’re not my Dad!”

“No, but in case you hadn’t noticed HE IS NOT HERE!” Bruce stood wide eyed as he realized what he had just said.

Tim felt as if he had been slapped. Bruce deflated and pinched his nose. 

“Tim, I…” Bruce swore. “I’m sorry that was a crap thing to say.”

“They’re coming back.” Tim’s face felt wet.

“I’m sure they are.” Bruce’s voice was quiet, his expression sullen. “Can you  _ please  _ come inside? Alfred is making clam chowder. I bet he would make some hot coco for you while you do your assignments.”

“I don’t want to be in the way.” Tim whispered to his shoe laces. 

“It’s a big house. Besides, you've met Dick. He takes up more room than God, and he’s still never in the way.” Bruce’s smile was thin.

“I’m not Dick.”

The smile on Bruce’s face evaporated. “You are not in the way. Alfred loves having you.”

“But you don’t.”

“What?” Bruce slumped against the car. “Tim, I like having you too. You aren’t in the way. You’re  _ thirteen _ , you’re too small and young to be in the way. Besides you’re helpful and you’re.. You’re.. Robin. It’s my job to look after you. Like it’s your job to look out for me.”

“So this is just Batman looking out for Robin?” Tim could work with that. That made sense. Yeah, how would it look if Tim had to go live with some foster family? He wouldn’t be able to be Robin if that happened. He could stay here if that meant it was easier for Batman. 

Bruce frowned, but nodded.

“Okay.” Tim adjusted his backpack strap so that it was no longer sliding off his shoulder, and turned toward the house.

If Bruce was surprised by the sudden change in Tim’s temperament, he didn’t show it. 

Tim spent the rest of the evening in a guest room working on school work. Around five his stomach began to growl, so he set aside his work and made his way to the kitchen. He could hear Alfred and Bruce talking in quiet voices. He paused as he heard his name.

“So he’s been alone this whole time?” Alfred sounded upset. His voice was a soft whisper, but it was heated. 

“Yes. And we didn’t notice. We didn’t notice his eye either.”

“Do you think he’s hidden injuries before?”

Tim peaked around the corner of the kitchen. Alfred stood over a bowl of neglected potatoes as Bruce paced. 

“I’m sure he has. You should have seen him. He actually yelled at me.”

“The boy’s yelled at you all the time.”

“Yeah, but I was their guardian. I could ground them, or something. Tim had me to rights. I’m not his parent. I can’t  _ make  _ him do anything. Not unless I turn in his parents for neglect, and then what? Al, what the hell do I do?” Bruce threw up his hands and turned towards the kitchen door. 

Tim yanked his head back and held his breath.

“What do you want to do?”

“What do I-- I want to have a few choice words with Jack and Janet Drake, is what I want to do. I would also like Tim to stay here, forever. I had to practically order him in the house as  _ Batman  _ to get him to come inside.” 

Tim could hear the scraping of a stool and ventured a look. Bruce was now sitting with his head in his hands at the counter. 

“Why did you have to do that?”

“Al, he still won’t even call me Bruce, or you Alfred. It’s all Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth. He is either scared of us, or scared if he messes up we’ll throw him out. Knowing Tim, it’s definitely not the former. You should see him in a fight. He didn’t want to ‘be in the way’” Bruce used air quotes as he spoke.

“Mmm… I must say, It is concerning.”

“Concerning is an understatement. I have told him at least seventeen times to call me Bruce. I don’t know how to get through to him that I  _ want  _ him here. Hell, if it were legal I would sign the guardianship forms right now.”

“He has parents.” Alfred picked up a potato and returned to peeling. 

Bruce snorted. “Yeah, on paper.”

“So you’re going to take action?”

Tim stiffened. What would that mean? Take action. Social service? No. Batman couldn’t. Could he?

“Are you kidding? And scare Tim? No. I think for now at least it’s just trying to convince him to stay here when they’re away. I want him to want to be here as much as we want him.”

Tim smiled. _Want_ had never sounded like such a wonderful word before. 

Tim silently made his way back to the stairs before coughing loudly enough for it to be heard in the kitchen. Did Bruce really want him to stay  _ forever _ . It seemed impossible. Tim couldn’t remember anyone wanting him to stay for an hour let alone forever. By the time Tim walked into the kitchen Alfred was ferociously peeling potatoes and Bruce was consumed in an article in the Daily Planet. 

“Awe, Master Tim. Dinner is almost ready, would you like some toast to hold you over?”

“Yes, please. If that is okay.”

“Of course it is.” Alfred smiled and pulled a loaf out of the bread box. Tim wondered if anyone else still used bread boxes. 

“What are you reading?” Tim glanced at the by line. Clark Kent. 

“Nothing exciting. Just a piece on a museum robbery in Metropolis. It might be Catwomen, but I think she was sighted in France, last week.”

“She’s still in Cairo.” Tim said as he accepted a hot piece of toast from Alfred. 

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up. “Is she?”

“Yeah, she pinged one of my alerts last night.”

“Hmm. I’ll tell Clark.” Tim smiled as Bruce patted him on the back. Bruce slipped off the stool. “Al, give me a shout when dinner’s done. Tim, slow down the toast isn’t going to run away.”

Tim smirked into his toast. “Whatever you say... Bruce.”

Alfred almost dropped a potato, but Bruce just smiled. Which to Tim made the black eye that started this mess one hundred percent worth it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I kept thinking about the very earliest days of Tim being Robin. How annoying would it be to always be called Mr. Wayne by a thirteen year old kid that you had little to no real control over. Sure you could fire him, but would that stop Tim, heck no. Poor Bruce, he was so not ready to be just a mentor to a kid. So I like the headcannon that Tim calls him Mr. Wayne for like over half a year, because he knows he's not adopted, or fostered. But it drives Bruce nuts. So I wanted to write about their weird relationship, and how he had to prove to Tim he wasn't going away. So the idea of Mr. Wayne finally becoming Bruce was so fun to write. 
> 
> Hope you all like it.


End file.
